


If only one night (2/7)

by In_Arcadia_IO



Series: If only one night [2]
Category: LOTR RPS AU
Genre: Alternate Universe, LOTR RPS AU - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:15:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3606408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Arcadia_IO/pseuds/In_Arcadia_IO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>In a different world, Orlando is a hired assassin. But what happens when he gets too close to his target?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The serpent's kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a different world, Orlando Bloom is a hired assassin. But what happens when he comes too close to his target?

Two - The serpent's kiss

There are professions where people can't afford to make mistakes. You forget to flip a single switch and a train derails. You dose a medicine inaccurately and a patient dies. In most cases, there's an intricate system of back-ups and security procedures, plenty of in-built redundancies for just-in-case. Still, catastrophes come down, more than once, to human failure, to the tiny fraction of a second when someone made the wrong decision.

"Be careful, Orlando," his boss had said, only a few days ago, eyes fixed on the papers he was studying where endless rows of tiny grey figures were crawling along the pages.

"Did I ever disappoint you, Sean?" Orlando replied, as calmly as possible, slightest intake of breath, concentrating instead on the colourful dots and spots above Sean's head. A Pollock, naturally, nothing less would do for Sean.

Sean had never even tried to touch Orlando. But there was Sean's voice. A voice that could be so gentle, so soft, as if wanting to wrap Orlando in rich, raven-black velvet. If it hadn't been for that note of menace, barely perceptible, but enough to make Orlando shiver. Sean's voice always reminded Orlando of the low purr of a beast on the prowl, slowly, unwaveringly circling his prey before the kill.

But Orlando would never ever be a victim again, *that* he knew for sure. Sean himself had seen to it. For it had been Sean who had put the gun into Orlando's hands.

"Hunt them down, all of them. There is no other way to be free again. Start here. Right now."

"I can't," Orlando had said, almost choking on the words.

"Of course, you can." Without any warning, Sean pushed the man, who had been trapped between the two of them, down on his knees. "Just remember what he did to you. What his friends did to your sister."

"Orlando, don't … ," the kneeling man pleaded, huge, blood-shot eyes in a face almost white with fear. "It wasn't meant this way. Things got a bit out of hand …"

Sean jerked the man's head backward. "Look at him, Orlando. Frightened as hell, but still telling nothing but lies. Do you really want to listen to that shit all over again?"

"Sean … "

Orlando's hand was shaking when Sean's fingers closed around it, lifting it together with the gun up to the man's head.

"No!"

The moment Sean pulled the trigger Orlando's eyes fell shut.

The silence that followed the shot seemed to absorb everything.

Before, there had been the man's wild sobs and whimpers, the sounds of knees and shoes shuffling on bare concrete soil and, most of all, the fierce beating of Orlando's heart, loud enough to drone out everything else.

Afterwards, there was only quiet.

Sean had been right. True, Orlando would never be the same again, that was the prize he had to pay. But he was no longer a victim either and pulling the trigger helped him to forget. As if by erasing one man after the other all memories of that fateful night could be annihilated as well. Such a simple trick. Almost as logical as a mathematical equation.

For that alone Orlando could have loved Sean. And he did, while hating him just as much.

More than anything he hated Sean's voice. That perfidious voice Orlando could never resist.

"I have work for you to do, Orlando. Could you do me a favour, Orlando?"

Orlando never said no. He would have done everything. And if Sean had told Orlando to go down and blow him Orlando would have been on his knees in a second.

Orlando had never taken pleasure in killing people. But in moments like this, when Sean's voice wrapped itself around him like a snake slowly coiling up to choke him, Orlando fantasized how lovely it would be, how he would enjoy setting the gun to the side of Sean's head and fire.

To go back to the moment when everything had begun. To close those treacherous lips forever. To stop Sean's eyes from roaming Orlando's body, from touching him, no, not with hands, with looks alone.

Sean knew exactly what he was doing. What he probably did not know was which effect this silent treatment actually had on Orlando. That Orlando grew hard each time he felt Sean's eyes on him, even if he loathed it. That Orlando was secretly longing for real touches instead of imaginary ones - together with a fast, hard fuck up against a wall.

The next job will be my last, Orlando kept telling himself. I'll be leaving this place after that. And never come back.

Sean looked up from his papers, all his attention focussed on Orlando now. "You're my best man. I hope you won't disappoint me".

Orlando held Sean's eyes. "I won't," he returned cooly. His lips did not quiver. His eyelids did not even flinch.

Not for a second.


	2. The serpent's kiss

Two - The Serpent's Kiss

There are professions where people can't afford to make mistakes. You forget to flip a single switch and a train derails. You dose a medicine inaccurately and a patient dies. In most cases, there's an intricate system of back-ups and security procedures, plenty of in-built redundancies for just-in-case. Still, catastrophes come down, more than once, to human failure, to the tiny fraction of a second when someone made the wrong decision.

"Be careful, Orlando," his boss had said, only a few days ago, eyes fixed on the papers he was studying where endless rows of tiny grey figures were crawling along the pages.

"Did I ever disappoint you, Sean?" Orlando replied, as calmly as possible, slightest intake of breath, concentrating instead on the colourful dots and spots above Sean's head. A Pollock, naturally, nothing less would do for Sean.

Sean had never even tried to touch Orlando. But there was Sean's voice. A voice that could be so gentle, so soft, as if wanting to wrap Orlando in rich, raven-black velvet. If it hadn't been for that note of menace, barely perceptible, but enough to make Orlando shiver. Sean's voice always reminded Orlando of the low purr of a beast on the prowl, slowly, unwaveringly circling his prey before the kill.

But Orlando would never ever be a victim again, *that* he knew for sure. Sean himself had seen to it. For it had been Sean who had put the gun into Orlando's hands.

"Hunt them down, all of them. There is no other way to be free again. Start here. Right now."

"I can't," Orlando had said, almost choking on the words.

"Of course, you can." Without any warning, Sean pushed the man, who had been trapped between the two of them, down on his knees. "Just remember what he did to you. What his friends did to your sister."

"Orlando, don't … ," the kneeling man pleaded, huge, blood-shot eyes in a face almost white with fear. "It wasn't meant this way. Things got a bit out of hand …"

Sean jerked the man's head backward. "Look at him, Orlando. Frightened as hell, but still telling nothing but lies. Do you really want to listen to that shit all over again?"

"Sean … "

Orlando's hand was shaking when Sean's fingers closed around it, lifting it together with the gun up to the man's head.

"No!"

The moment Sean pulled the trigger Orlando's eyes fell shut.

The silence that followed the shot seemed to absorb everything.

Before, there had been the man's wild sobs and whimpers, the sounds of knees and shoes shuffling on bare concrete soil and, most of all, the fierce beating of Orlando's heart, loud enough to drone out everything else.

Afterwards, there was only quiet.

Sean had been right. True, Orlando would never be the same again, that was the prize he had to pay. But he was no longer a victim either and pulling the trigger helped him to forget. As if by erasing one man after the other all memories of that fateful night could be annihilated as well. Such a simple trick. Almost as logical as a mathematical equation.

For that alone Orlando could have loved Sean. And he did, while hating him just as much.

More than anything he hated Sean's voice. That perfidious voice Orlando could never resist.

"I have work for you to do, Orlando. Could you do me a favour, Orlando?"

Orlando never said no. He would have done everything. And if Sean had told Orlando to go down and blow him Orlando would have been on his knees in a second.

Orlando had never taken pleasure in killing people. But in moments like this, when Sean's voice wrapped itself around him like a snake slowly coiling up to choke him, Orlando fantasized how lovely it would be, how he would enjoy setting the gun to the side of Sean's head and fire.

To go back to the moment when everything had begun. To close those treacherous lips forever. To stop Sean's eyes from roaming Orlando's body, from touching him, no, not with hands, with looks alone.

Sean knew exactly what he was doing. What he probably did not know was which effect this silent treatment actually had on Orlando. That Orlando grew hard each time he felt Sean's eyes on him, even if he loathed it. That Orlando was secretly longing for real touches instead of imaginary ones - together with a fast, hard fuck up against a wall.

The next job will be my last, Orlando kept telling himself. I'll be leaving this place after that. And never come back.

Sean looked up from his papers, all his attention focussed on Orlando now. "You're my best man. I hope you won't disappoint me".

Orlando held Sean's eyes. "I won't," he returned cooly. His lips did not quiver. His eyelids did not even flinch.

Not for a second.


End file.
